He Deserves It
by always-black-and-white
Summary: Mpreg! Sherlock discovers that he is pregnant just after the events of the Reichenbach Fall. Upon returning, he keeps the child a secret from John, as he doesn't want to interfere with John's new life with Mary. Parentlock. Eventual Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Sherlock

I don't have a beta, and this isn't brit picked.

Sherlock sat on the floor of the dark, dirty bathroom.

He'd deleted it. He had deleted one of the most important things about his "transport."

And now he was paying the price for his ignorance.

Mycroft had always insisted that it was an accident. And it was, in a way. But it was still his fault.

He'd left his door open while going to the kitchen for a glass of water.

And _that_ was the mistake.

He'd broken Father's one rule: Never leave Mycroft's doors open. Because leaving a door open allowed his ever curious, ever hyper two year old brother access to his room.

And that meant that Sherlock had access to a high-strength feminine fertility drug in a thin glass bottle that was sitting on his desk. And isn't it a widespread fact, that most development happens in the first three years?

Later, when he was five, doctors were able to confirm it.

Sherlock would be able to carry a child. He would carry any child he were to have for 18 months instead of 9, but he would be able to conceive, nonetheless.

Mycroft convinced his parents not to tell him. At least, not until he was old enough to comprehend what they would be telling him. They continued to avoid the matter for several years.

The night that they told him, he was 20 years old. That was the first night that Sherlock did cocaine.

He'd deleted his ability to carry children while at rehab, seven years later. Sherlock hadn't done cocaine to get away from his own mind. He'd done it to get away from his "transport."

Because his classmates were right, Sally Donovan was right, everyone was right.

Sherlock Holmes was a freak.

He'd never warned John of the possibility because_ he_ _didn't remember._

And now, John believed him to be dead, having taken his own life via the rooftop at St. Bart's.

In reality, Sherlock was sitting in a small, run-down flat in Russia staring at a little white plastic test with a small pink plus sign at the top.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry I took so long, I had midterms, asthma issues, a messed up ankle, suckish friends, and a history project.

Please take a few seconds and leave some constructive criticism. Or a nice review. Either works.

Funnily enough, if you looked at my search history right now, you would think that I was pregnant.

**Warnings: **Discussion of abortion.

Thanks to everyone that followed and favorited, and to **Bbbyrd** and **Luka Knight** for commenting!

-Jaycee

Sherlock had to get rid of it.

The sooner he dismantled Moriarty's network, the sooner he'd be able to return to John.

John.

John would never forgive him if he knew.

John would want to keep the child, watch it grow up.

But John would never have to know. Doctors could be bribed, not even Mycroft would know.

He had to get rid of it.

He couldn't get rid of it. His, ah, _abnormal _body system made most methods of abortion impossible, and he was allergic to the drugs involved in a medicinal abortion.

He had to keep it.

There was no way he was giving the child up for adoption. If he was keeping the child, he was _keeping it._ End of discussion.

This meant that he would need some help.

Mycroft usually didn't meet Sherlock whenever he requested something. He'd normally send Anthea or an agent to pick him up.

However, his brother usually exercised mock- politeness when he requested something.

This time, Mycroft only received a location and a plea for help.

Sherlock knew that, despite whatever he would say, Mycroft loved him and would assist him wherever and whenever he could.

He also knew that Mycroft felt guilty.

Mycroft knew that everything was his fault. If he had taken better care around his brother, Sherlock would never have gotten ahold of the fertility drug, and he'd never have become a drug addict.

I f he had come home more when Sherlock was growing up, Sherlock might have forgiven him.

If he had been there when Sherlock needed him, Sherlock mightn't have felt so alone.

And he knew, that as soon as Mycroft saw him, he would know that something was wrong.

Mycroft had never seen his brother tired. Even when he was doing cocaine, Sherlock never _looked _tired.

The time away from John had not done him any good. Sherlock looked tired and underweight.

Mycroft's worry only increased when Sherlock tossed him a small ziplock bag with a white stick in it.


End file.
